


And It Goes On

by LightBlueFlower



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, FRUKweek, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, frukweek2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15728997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightBlueFlower/pseuds/LightBlueFlower
Summary: FrUk Week 2018// Day 1- FACE Family + ParenthoodArthur had always imagined the perfect family he would have- he would marry and settle with a kind and gentle man, and raise two children who would be absolute angels and make no trouble whatsoever.And he was right. Partially.Matthew and Alfred are sweet children, but they do cause quite a bit of trouble. Francis is a gentleman, but he's also the "cool, nice" parent, while Arthur is seen as the tyrannical parent.But what do you do when you're tired of being seen as the bad guy while your partner get's a free pass?---Or, basically, Matthew and Alfred are caught cheating on a test and Arthur ends up having a conversation about proper parenting with Francis.





	And It Goes On

**Author's Note:**

> Haha this is so late but I wanted to post it :^) This was supposed to be for FrukWeek2018, but yo girl got sidetracked. 
> 
> I tried to make this in a day, but I didn't know how to go about with this theme so...I hope it's good and you guys enjoy it!

When Arthur was a teenager going through the turmoil of adolescence and struggling to find his place in the world, there was one thing that he knew for sure that he wanted. He always assumed that when he was older, he would go to law school and settle down with a gentle, loving man and have a happy marriage while raising a beautiful family consisting of two kids and one dog in a big house in the suburbs of London.

He had always assumed for some reason, he would be the opposite of how his parents were to him- he would be the kind and loving parent, the kind of parent that wouldn’t needlessly be strict and set rules upon rules. And his kids will be angels- his kids won’t be like those kids he always see in the grocery store, running around and climbing the racks as their parents countdown from 5 for the fifth time. His kids won’t scream and throw a tantrum when he says no to candy, and they would be polite and calm and nice and sweet.

And for the most part, teenaged Arthur was right.

For the _most_ part.

He did settle with a man, thought he wouldn’t always describe Francis as nice and gentle- quite the contrary, they had always known each other, having a rivalry throughout their high school years before they finally became friends, and Arthur was surprised to find that the Frenchman was much more of a gentleman than he had originally thought.

He did go to law school, and somehow passed the bar in order to become a lawyer, and now works as a prosecutor for a court in the downtown of London.

He did end up with a house in the suburbs, thought it was not quite like as big as his childhood home, he still liked the greenery that surrounded them, giving it an old country vibe.

And yes, he did end up having two children- a pair of boy twins, Alfred and Matthew, that he and Francis, who was by then his husband, had fostered since they were three and had fully adopted within the next year. They did have a dog- a little mutt Matthew found on the streets one day, and after much begging and tears from Matthew, who rarely asked for anything to begin with, they kept the pup.

But that's where things start to deter, and was much more different from what Arthur would have imagine.

Their marriage was not all sunshines and rainbows as Arthur had assumed marriage would be like- afterall, you only marry the love of your life, and it takes a long time beforehand to build a relationship. Francis was a loving man, more than Arthur, and they always had a symbiotic relationship where by the time they were engaged, they were practically made for each other.

Marriage had a lot of ups and downs, especially during the first year, with Arthur having to learn how to balance work and being home with Francis. After they found their footing again, all was smooth, but they did run into conflicts here and there, as couples do.

But when you add kids into the mix, as they did after they figured out how to make their next step in life harmonious, there was bound to be fights- especially when it came to the style of parenting you want to raise your children with.

Arthur was no 60s parenting manual who told parents to let their kids cry it out until they stopped, but Arthur did know where to draw the line, and how to discipline kids without it being unreasonable. Francis should as well- he’s an Early Childhood Educator, and should have more knowledge about how to nurture and care for children. And he does take care of their children a lot, much more than Arthur due to his job flexibility.

Yet, Arthur was always seen as the bad guy for some reason. Alfred and Matthew were the best kids anyone could have- they were the sweetest kids, they were always kind, and really polite. Still, they are children, and no matter how much one thinks their kid is not going to behave like the spawn of Satan sometimes, they will still throw tantrums and scream and cry and yell and…

Just thinking about the times when Alfred had a meltdown when Arthur told him he couldn’t have one more cookie or the time when Matthew, of all children, knocked over a stand at a store when Arthur told him to stand still gave Arthur a headache.

Of course, when kids get in trouble, they need to be handed a reasonable punishment so they would learn they can’t do something- if they cry for not getting a lollipop at that very moment, well, guess they’re not going to have dessert after dinner tonight or if they do something despite you telling them not to, guess they’re going to be grounded and can’t watch TV in the morning before heading to school.

And that sounds all fine and dandy when you, as one part of the unit, thinks this is the way it should be. But what if the other half thinks otherwise, and thinks being more lenient and being kinder was the way to go?

What if the other unit was the cool, nice parent?

That was exactly what Francis was.

He was the cool parent. He was the parent the boys always went to when they wanted something when Arthur said no, and they always hid behind him when they got in trouble because Francis would protect them from Arthur’s scolding.

“ _They’re just children, cher_ ,” Francis would say with an easy smile to calm Arthur down and deter him from grounding them, and Alfred and Matthew would hid behind him, waiting for Arthur to continue with a smug look on their faces.

It unnerved Arthur to no end, but he didn’t want to start a conflict- not over something like how to handle their kids behaviour. Francis was more of a talk it out and find out why they did what they did, and he meets Arthur in the middle by letting him choose the rules of the punishment.

And although Arthur doesn’t think that approach worked with a kid like Alfred, he didn’t have to energy to tell Francis that he was right on that subject.

Francis being the cool parent, though, carried on, until well into their preteen years. They always went to him when they got a bad grade on a test because they know he would be softer than Arthur who would ask why they got that grade and make sure they sat down and did the work, and always begged him to be lenient when they were grounded so they could go out with friends. And Francis would comply, like the big softy he was.

This may have lead to Alfred, specifically, getting away with more things than he should. And with his behaviour becoming more and more reckless since starting Year 9 that year, Arthur was half ready to ship him off to a boarding school in the countryside if he gets into one more fight for the sake of being the ‘hero’ or bring back another D claiming he did study hard even though Arthur knew that he has mostly been hanging out with friends.

The two were placed in separate classes for Year 9 and so far things have been fine and dandy. The day went well for Arthur, being able to stay behind at home while Francis went to work, and Arthur took advantage of this freedom by binge-watching the latest show on the BBC until he received a call from the headmaster informing him that Alfred and Matthew had managed to switch places, with Alfred having a math test that period and instead Matthew took it for him. It took the teacher until the end to figure it out, and it was only because Matthew’s round letters did not match Alfred stick writing at all.

“Alfred switched places with Matthew so that Matthew could take a math test for him,” Arthur had informed Francis once they returned home, who was on the couch with a cup of tea in hand and a book in the other, waiting for them to come home.

Alfred and Matthew nearly ran towards the couch closest to him, already setting up their defensive position.

“And?” Francis asked, casually taking his glasses off and placing it on the collar of his shirt.

“And now Alfred has to retake the test tomorrow during lunch and he has to stay behind at school for the rest of the week,” Arthur replied, eyebrows raising, waiting for Francis to answer.

“Did you two really do that?” Francis asked immediately, looking at Alfred and Matthew, who sat beside him on the couch their Papa was sitting on. When Alfred nodded, Francis burst in laughter, “How did you two manage to pull that off?”

“Easy, Papa! I gave Matthew my vest and I took his blazer. I told Matthew to tuck his hair back, too,” Alfred had a cheeky grin, as if proud of what he had pulled off. “All Matthew had to do was sit in my spot, and say present for the attendance, and I did the same with him. And it would have worked too if Matthew didn’t have fancy writing.”

“At least my writing isn’t chicken scratch,” Matthew commented in a whisper, staring at the ground as a proud smile appeared on his face.

“That’s really smart,” Francis commented, before reaching over to Alfred’s mush of brown hair and shook it lovingly, which set Arthur off.

“No it’s not smart! It was stupid, and they got in trouble with their teacher!” Arthur replied, slight anger in his voice towards Francis. “The headmaster told me that he was considering suspending both of them, but since they’re both generally good, he won’t! If they were in university, they would be expelled and banned for any education for life!”

“But they’re not in university, mon cher,” Francis chuckled, and Arthur stood dumbfounded at how his husband actually found this to be funny.

“Did you not hear me, though? They could have gotten suspended! It could have really affected how they continue onto post-secondary!”

“It’s only Year 9, Artie. They don’t really care until the last two years anyway,” Francis shrugged the comment in a calming manner, and thought Arthur was sure he wasn’t trying to dismiss Arthur’s worries, it sure did feel like he was.

“Okay, well, whatever the case is, both of you are grounded,” Arthur replied quickly. “Both of you can turn in your phones for two weeks. Alfred, you can’t go to your rugby game this Thursday, and Matthew, you can’t go to the movies tonight with your little boyfriend.”

“What!” The boys both cried in unison, taken aback by their father’s words.

“This game is important thought!” Alfred exclaimed, eyes wide. “Dad you can’t do this!”

“I promised I would go and I haven’t seen him in so long,” Matthew whined, and started to turn red in embarrassment at being called out on the spot about his date.

“Arthur, I really think that’s too-" Francis started, but Arthur quickly interrupted.

“This isn’t a democracy,” Arthur replied. “Your opinions don’t matter in this case. I won’t have either of my sons cheat, nor do I want this behaviour to continue.”

“Dad, c’mon dude, it’s just one time-"

“End of discussion, Alfred,” Arthur shut him down, and he felt the adrenaline rushing in him, as if years of putting up with Francis’ niceness just built up inside.

“Can’t I just-"

“You know what, it’s obvious you’re not studying at all, since you’re making your brother take you tests,” Arthur continued. “Maybe I should talk to the headmaster about keeping you off the team until your grades get better!”

Alfred was standing at this point, and Arthur knew that from the frown on Alfred’s face, he was on the verge of tears. Rugby was the boy’s life- it was his outlet for everything he builds up in life. He might as well have told him that he can’t have McDonald’s anymore- he needs it to stay alive.

Alfred was quiet, with Matthew sitting there after accepting his punishment passively, watching them. Alfred’s eyebrows pulled in suddenly, and he gritted his teeth.

“I hate you! You’re the worst! Sometimes I wish you weren’t my Dad!” Alfred started to storm towards the exit of the living room towards the staircase.

Arthur was at a lost of words, his heart beating fast in anger, and he followed the boy immediately, before yelling, “What did you just say to me?”

“It would have been so much better if it was just Papa,” he could hear Alfred grumble audibly, before he ran up the stairs and slammed the door behind him.

Arthur was not the sensitive type- far from it, he was able to be sympathetic, but he was never one to feel feelings easily-, but he could feel a lump welling up in his throat, making it harder to breathe properly and make any sound.

“Arthur,” he could hear Francis say softly as he walked up towards him, but Arthur didn’t want to hear it. Arthur kept walking, up the stairs, and down the hall to the room he shared with Francis.

The house fell silent, and Arthur could feel his own heart pulsing blood to his ears. Then tears started to fall, one by one, first slowly rolling, before they quickened and he collapsed on the floor, sitting in front of the door.

He knew Alfred was just saying that to make him angry- he didn’t really hate Arthur. Right? Of course not, but it still hurts hearing this from the person he raised and loved. And Francis, how could Francis not support him, and make it seem like he was the insane one? He cared about their education just as much, but how could he just sit there and make Arthur seem unreasonable for his choices?

Arthur knew this could start a trend of lies and they could spiral down a rabbit hole in their adult lives if they continued like this as kids- if he didn’t nip this behaviour as soon as it appears, then they might end up getting in worse trouble later on.

 _Why is this so hard?_ He thought, hot tears still running down his face as he tried to take deep breaths to calm down.

So much for the easy life he thought he would have. Human complexity gets in the way of the simple life- it was unstable, and Arthur had to learn how to handle these things, thought at that moment, he was still unsure how to go about without wallowing in anger and sadness.

He was fed up. He was tired. But what can he do to overcome it?

He stayed in the room for a bit longer, shifting from the floor to the bed, and he tucked himself underneath the duvet, covering his face so he did not need to look at anything other than the striped patterns on the fabric.

There was a knock on the door, one sharper than how Matthew would knock but not as loud as how Alfred would knock. Arthur didn’t reply, instead remaining silent and he could hear the door open with a slow creak.

“May I come in to my own room?” Francis’ voice asked from a distance, soft and gentle, as if he was coaxing Arthur to come out of hiding.

Which Arthur didn’t want to do. In a childish manner, Arthur laid still, pretending he wasn’t there. Soft footsteps walked across the wooden floor, and he could feel the edge of the bed dip in, as it did when someone sat on the mattress.

“Oh my, I wonder where Arthur has gone!” Francis said in a mock surprise, and Arthur didn’t respond, keeping his breathing steady. A slight pause, and Francis continued with a chuckle, “Mon amour, if you wanted to hide, you should have covered your feet as well.”

Arthur quickly retracted the one leg that dangled out of the covers, still remaining silent, and curled underneath in order for the duvet to cover his entire body in fetal position. The tears were now gone, but the lump of anger and frustration still remained in his throat, and he in no way was ready to talk to anyone.

“Are you going to ignore me, Artie?” Francis cooed, and Arthur felt his shift closer, still sitting up but touching Arthur’s back with his.

“Go away,” Arthur finally grumbled, his voice low and cracked.

“But this is my room as well,” Francis replied, leaning further over Arthur.

“Get off of me,” Arthur snapped, before pushing Francis aside with his legs. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Why not? What have I done now?”

“You know damn well what you did,” Arthur replied without missing a beat. “I’m angry at you- don’t talk to me.”

He could hear Francis sigh, but he didn’t move from the edge of the bed. After a moment where neither of them moved, Francis finally got up and left, leaving Arthur alone.

* * *

When Francis closed the door behind him, he could hear the sound of Arthur shifting in the bed, likely to get comfortable.

Francis knew exactly why his husband was angry the moment he started to lay out the rules of their punishment. He has heard it before, but he didn’t realise that Arthur would be this angry over it. He figured that he was also hurt by what Alfred had told him, and Francis not leaping up to side with him immediately only made him more hurt, as if the Frenchman was trying to pit their children against Arthur.

He didn’t mean to, though- he just thought that it would be better to talk it out with the kids rather than have a iron fist and laying out the punishment. He knew Arthur was a lawyer, a prosecutor no less, and had to be tough and straight to the point in order to hand out justice, yet, the courtroom was way different than home.

Kids will be kids- he and Arthur had caused their fair share of trouble in their young days, and thought it wasn’t to the point of switching places with people to avoid a test, he knew it was just out of short-sighted stupidity.

 _He is right_ , Francis admitted to himself as he continue down the stairs. _This behaviour is not okay, no matter how silly it is._

Maybe Francis has been a bit too lenient for his kids’ own good. And maybe he should try to side with Arthur a bit more, even if it appears to be insane at first. Alfred’s grades have been slipping, and Matthew should know he can’t passively do something as stupid as that without any consequences.

“Mathieu,” Francis said when he noticed he was fidgeting on his phone. “What did your Dad say about phones?”

He could see his son curl his mouth in a slight pout, before giving the cell in his hand to Francis. He then asked softly, “Can’t I just go today? I don’t mind staying home for two weeks, but just today…”

“I’m sorry, but if you wanted to see your boyfriend, you shouldn’t have done what you did,” Francis said softly, leaning on the edge of the sofa that Matthew sat on. He could see the obvious devastation- he really didn’t do as much damage as Alfred, but he needed to learn not to do it again. “I’ll talk to you Dad about it first, though."

Matthew glanced away, and just nodded. “Is Dad angry at me?”

“Yeah, he is- at both of you,” Francis said. “But he might be more mad at me right now than at you two.”

Matthew remained silent, and Francis continued, “Don’t get me wrong- I’m disappointed with you two as well. It’s funny because neither of you got into serious trouble, but what would happen if you two got suspended? What if you two did this during and exam and got caught? You two could have been expelled.”

“I guess,” Matthew mumbled feebishly, still choosing to stare at the cushion in front of him.

Francis started to walk to the kitchen right behind them, and took the kettle off the stand, filling it with tap water. “Don’t you have homework to do, chouchou?”

“Yeah, I’ll go do that,” Matthew said solemnly, and as much as Francis felt bad and wanted to tell him he could go, he knew he shouldn’t do it. He should let him be, and leave him to reflect over what he did.

 _That’s one down,_ Francis thought, as he clicked the button on the kettle to start boiling the water. _Two more to go._

After fixing a cup of tea the way he knew Arthur would like, Francis walked up the stairs slowly, thinking about how he should talk to Alfred about what he had said.

By the time he reached Alfred’s door, he still didn’t know what he should start off with. He knocked on the door, figuring he would wing it.

“ _Go away_ ,” Alfred’s muffled voice came through the closed door, and Francis opened it slightly.

“ _C’est moi, mon doudou_ , 《It's me, my _doudou_ 》” Francis replied, attempting to keep his tone light. Alfred did not respond, and Francis opened the door wider, to find Alfred sitting on his bed, underneath a blanket, a book open on his lap.

Like father, like son…

“Can I talk to you?” Francis asked, and Alfred shrugged, not lifting his eyes from the book. Francis walked towards the ledge of his bed, careful to not spill the tea in his hand.

“What are you reading?” Francis continued, and Alfred lifted the book to show the cover of the book- _Anne of Green Gables_. A book Arthur would read to both him and Matthew when he was younger.

“Shouldn’t you be studying for tomorrow’s test?” Francis said, waiting for Alfred to look up from the book. “I’m sure Anne can wait another day.”

“I’m going to,” Alfred mumbled, closing the book immediately. He finally looked up to Francis, and said, “This isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t fair?”

“My team is depending on me to be at the game on Thursday,” Alfred replied, exasperated, his eyes pleading. “Papa, please, I have to go.”

“Alfred,” Francis started, his tone remaining calm. “You know your Dad has the final say in any of this. I can’t let you do anything without talking with him.”

“So you’re siding with Dad?” Alfred said, careful not to raise his voice, his words cracking instead. “He doesn’t understand anything! All he does he sit in his study or goes to work!”

“Of course I am,” Francis said, raising an eyebrow. “What you did was reckless and stupid. I admit, it is funny now, but your Dad has the right to be worried. You have been struggling to get good grades, and now you’re making your brother take your test?”

“But this was the only time,” Alfred said, almost whining. “C’mon Papa, it’s only this one time. It’s not I would do it again.”

“You say that, but who knows, maybe you’ll keep doing it,” Francis said. He continued with a softer tone, “I know you’re angry, Alfred, but you just won’t be able to play rugby for a bit until you can prove to us that you can keep your grades up. Your Dad and I are just worried that you’re too distracted with this whole rugby thing.”

“What if I don’t even want to go to university? My grades won’t matter if I don’t go,” Alfred intervened, a preprepared answer he's likely had kept feom the many times Arthur talked about his grades and going on to university.

“You say that now, but when you have to go through the trouble of needing to upgrade your marks and paying for those classes in order to go, you’ll be kicking yourself,” Francis said. “Trust me, I’ve gone through it. Besides, if you want to continue in sports, they would want you to good marks as well.”

Alfred remained silent, looking away.

“I also don’t like what you told your Dad,” Francis continued, bringing in a bit more serious tone.

“I didn’t mean it,” Alfred said, guilt in his face.

“He only cares and worries about you, loulou. He’s not out to ruin your life- that’s not what parents do.”

“I guess,” Alfred said, his voice tapering off. Francis figure this was a good place to leave Alfred to be alone, and got up to leave.

“I hope you apologize to your Dad,” Francis added as he stood by the door frame, glancing over to his son. “You really hurt his feelings.”

Before Francis turned around and left, he remembered the other reason why he came into the room. “By the way, I need you phone.”

Francis closed the door gently behind him after retrieving Alfred’s cell, before making his way to his and Arthur’s room, the tea having cooled down to a nice, warm temperature.

 _I hope he doesn’t throw it at me,_ Francis thought, though he chuckled at his own words, and opened the door.

Arthur was still under the cover, though now his head poked out slightly, so his nose could breathe outside of his little space. He could see Arthur glance over at Francis, before he pulled the blanket back over his head.

“ _Lapinou_ ,” Francis sung softly, making his way to the bed.

“I told you to leave me alone,” Arthur voice said through the blanket, but it was much more calmer than before.

“I thought you would like some tea.”

A pause, and Arthur shifted underneath in order to sit up, pulling the blanket off of his face and allowing his arms to be free. He took the mug out of Francis’ hand, and sipped, though, not without a glare and pout.

It was the easiest way to bribe the Brit out of his bad mood.

“Would you like me to leave?” Francis asked, and Arthur didn’t reply right away, taking a long sip of his tea.

“No, you may stay,” he finally said, shifting slightly over so his body didn’t cover the entire bed. Francis immediately sat beside his husband, keeping a distance between them in the case Arthur changed his mind.

“You put too much sugar,” Arthur mumbled between sips.

“It’s so you can be less bitter,” Francis automatically replied, a smile on his face, and he could see Arthur trying to hide his grin in the cup.

Another silence fell on them, and Arthur took a few more sips. Then he spoke, “Did you talk to Alfred?”

“Yes, and Matthew too.”

“What did you say?” Arthur asked, and there was a shade of suspicion in his tone, as if he had assumed what Francis may have done.

“I told them to give me their phones and they have to do as you said,” Francis replied simply.

“Really?” Arthur replied, and he looked at Francis, with an eyebrow raised, not believing him. Francis pulled out the phones and gingerly placed them on the nightstand beside him.

“You thought I was going to let them get away with this?” Francis asked. “My love, you wound me. I thought you thought if me better than that.”

“You’ve done it before,” Arthur said, a bit in disbelief.

“When they were actual children,” Francis sighed. “Not as teenagers.”

Another pause, and Francis continued, “I have been too soft on them, haven’t I?”

“No,” Arthur replied solemnly. “I think I’ve been too hard on them.”

“Of course not, Arthur, you know that you shouldn’t be babying them and actually disciplining them. I’m the one who keeps thinking they’re younger than they really are.”

Arthur stopped drinking his tea, placing the mug between his legs, staring down intently.

“Are you okay?” Francis asked, finally deciding to close the space between their arms, and gently placed his hand on Arthur’s.

Something must have triggered something in Arthur, because he turned to Francis with tears streaming down his face.

“I’m not a shitty parent, right,” Arthur asked, his voice cracking. Francis picked up the mug and left it to the side, before wrapping his arms around Arthur’s shoulder to pull him into a hug.

“Of course not,” Francis chuckled softly, and Arthur hid his face into his shoulders, accepting the hug and returning it. “You’re a stick in the mud, and a bit of a hardass, and maybe your definition if fun isn’t really fun, but you’re not shitty at all.”

“Playing crosswords is fun,” Arthur replied, as if offended, thought he sounded more amused.

“Yes, my love, and so is playing Sudoku,” Francis replied sarcastically, running a hand through the other’s blonde tuffs. “I know Alfred said he hated you, but we both know that he loves you a lot. He was just angry, and he still shouldn't have said what he did, but he’s also a teenager, unfortunately.”

“I want the little babies that we first adopted back,” Arthur said. “I’d rather they throw small tantrums than actually argue back.”

“If only we could go back,” Francis agreed, pulling away slightly, pressing his lips on Arthur’s forehead, wiping away any leftover tears on his cheeks. “Although, we could try to adopt a baby. Perhaps a girl this time? I think we have too many boys in this house.”

“Mhm, perhaps. The courts have been busy lately,” Arthur said, accepting the soft kisses, holding on to his wrist gently, not stopping him. “Maybe after I’m finished the case I’m working on now, we can look into it.”

Francis planted a soft kiss on Arthur’s lips, a bit longer than he had expected, and pulled away. “Don’t worry too much about whether you’re like your father. You’re never going to be like that man. And don’t cry like this out of nowhere, okay? Or at least tell me before you do. I’ve managed to convince Sadik that you had your tear ducts removed, and I can’t have you crying accidentally in front of him.”

“Why did you- How did you manage to convince him that I don’t cry?” Arthur asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes.

“It took a good hour and a fake Wikipedia page in order for him to believe me,” Francis explained. “So don’t cry.”

“I’ll only cry in your arms,” Arthur joked, leaning in again for a hug. They sat a bit longer together, slipping on the bed, laying together, holding each other.

Francis really missed this. They both had been so busy with work, with Arthur being on edge and snappy as of late. It was nice to hit pause and just stay still together, without the kids around- or, at least, not in their presence.

“I know you were yelling at Alfred like that because of me,” Francis spoke up suddenly, looking at Arthur. “And I have been a lenient with them. I’m sorry if you thought I wasn't taking you seriously.”

“Good,” Arthur said with a smug smile. “But this better not be words. You better have my back when it comes to these things.”

“I will, but only if you talk to me about punishments,” Francis nodded. “I still want a word in how to handle them.”

“Fine,” Arthur replied. “I’ll consider your input before handing it out. But I don’t want you to jump to their defense without hearing the whole story.”

“Yes, yes, but please try not to be too harsh right away. And don’t yell either. They’re young, they’ll make mistakes, but if you talk to them, they’ll understand.”

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed. “I should try to be calmer.”

“Don’t yell- even if you are angry.”

“Yes. I won’t yell- well, I’ll try not to.”

Silence fell over them like a comfortable blanket, neither of them saying a word for a moment, the sound of their breathing and heartbeat filling the gaps.

“Hey,” Arthur whispered softly, pulling Francis’ attention to him. His eyes were low, a bit fluttery, and he ran a finger along Francis’ collarbone. Immediately, Francis could feel his heartbeat faster, feeling entranced and pulled in.

Would it be inappropriate if they continued after having a bit of a tuff and having scolded their kids?

Maybe.

But, considering that they are both grown adults and they barely have time to themself as they do at this moment, maybe they should savour it and continue.

They kissed, tender at first, and the kiss become deeper. Francis let his hand trail down Arthur’s shoulder to his back, with Arthur shifting closer, allowing him to go on.

Francis leaned over his lover, maintaining the kisses between their lips, before making his way down to his neck. Arthur made small sound and ran a hand through Francis' hair, sending Francis into a slight internal frenzy, and he left a slight rouge mark along his collarbone. 

"Arthur," Francis mumbled, leaning over to kiss the other's lips again. Arthur opened his mouth to answer but stopped when a sudden soft knock on the door could be heard.

Immediately ended the moment, and Arthur groaned, while Francis immediately sat up away from Arthur, a reaction that he had developed and stuck with him from the many years of the door suddenly opening and their kids peering in in order to bug them.

“Yes?” Francis said, and the door opened, eith Matthew’s head popping through. He immediately noticed how close his parents were underneath the duvet of their bed, and despite both being clothed, he turned red in embarrasment.

“O-Oh, I thought Dad was,” Matthew started, his voice trailing off. “Uhm, I was just wondering what’s happening for dinner? It’s almost 6.”

“Right,” Francis said, getting out of the bed and walking towards Matthew. “I should get started on that. Matthew, would you like to help?”

“Okay,” Matthew stammered, allowing Francis to lead the way, and walked with him down the staircase, with Arthur also coming along.

“I’ll help,” Arthur said, and Francis laughed.

“No thanks, I don’t want to call the fire department again!”

“Excuse you, but my skills have actually improved,” Arthur scoffed. “Just last week, I made a good soup!”

“Yeah, after I added enough salt to it,” Francis retorted, and Matthew just smiled softly on the sidelines, watching as the two continued to bicker.

As they continued to make dinner, with Matthew sitting on the table slicing various vegetables, and Francis watching Arthur to make sure he doesn’t incinerate the chicken into burnt coal, Francis could hear footsteps on the floor above them.

He could see a brown haired mush peep out from the staircase, staying there for a bit as if hesitant to come down.

“It’s nice of you to join us, Alfred,” Francis said to the mush, and Alfred emerged down the stairs, smiling sheepishly.

“Would you like to help Matthew with the vegetables?” Francis asked as Alfred approached them.

“Okay. But I just wanted to tell Dad something,” Alfred mumbled, glancing around slightly, appearing to be nervous. Arthur looked towards Alfred from where he stood in the kitchen, stopping what he was doing and waiting for Alfred to continue.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for saying what I said,” Alfred said in a clearer voice, but he kept his head slightly down, not looking up. “I didn’t mean it. At all.”

Arthur glanced over to Francis, as if to seek an answer to use, and Francis gave a slight nod.

“Thank you for apologizing,” Arthur said calmly, and although Arthur is not used to talking in this manner, especially after a fight, he knew he had to take this approach. “But you do know you’re still grounded for two weeks.”

“I know,” Alfred replied.

“You can go to your game this Thursday,” Arthur finally said. Alfred looked up, a mix of confusion and surprise on his face, as it did on Francis’ face. “But you’re still grounded. No phone, no after school activities except this Thursday. And I’ll be picking you up right after it’s done. Now go help your brother out.”

Arthur gestured towards Matthew, before turning away to continue with his pan and chicken. Francis glanced at Alfred, who had a smile of relief on his face, and he walked over to the table, pulling up a seat beside Matthew and started to use the vegetable peeler on a carrot Matthew handed to him. The two started to chat, and before any of them knew it, the house seem to have returned to how it usual was, the tension from earlier dissipating.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Arthur told Francis when he noticed him staring with soft eyes. “At least not now.”

Without warning, Francis placed a kiss on his lips, not a quick one as he would usually do and held it for a bit. Alfred and Matthew immediately noticed this disgusting display of affection, and started to yell.

“Aghhh my eyes!”

“Modesty is dead.”

Even their dog, who had returned from it’s afternoon of sleeping in the backyard howled woefully along with the twins. Arthur simply rolled his eyes while Francis tried to explain how romance is beautiful, and that when they were older, they’ll be doing stuff like this as well- only to receive more negative reactions from the kids.

Being a parent is hard. Trying to be a unit that respects each other style of parenting is harder.

And maybe Arthur wasn’t the perfect parent he had hoped he would be, and Francis wasn’t the perfect partner he had expected, but they made things work, and only grow from their mistakes.

After all, they were always going to be Arthur and Francis, parents of Matthew and Alfred. They were always going to be single unit, having each others back. And they will alwahs try to make things work between themselves and their family.

As it is as it should be.And as it will always be.


End file.
